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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24886384">A Little Respect</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale'>DixieDale</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hogan's Heroes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:48:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,217</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24886384</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Carter is just looking for a little respect from the guys!  Is that too much to ask??</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Little Respect</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for HH Short Story Speedwriting Challenge.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kinch was putting a crimp in Carter's latest enthusiasm, much to the young man's dismay.  It had been such a neat idea, too!</p><p>"You can't get the wood, you know. (1)  At least not the hard maple or the cedar.  Cherry, yeah, maybe, they do grow around here, but with the food shortage, no one's going to be cutting down many cherry trees, not if there's any chance at all of them producing anything.  And anyone with a stock of cut wood, like Meyerson's place, they have their own plans for it, you know.  They're not going to like you trying to make off with any, and the colonel wants to keep on Meyerson's good side, such as it is.  He may be a grouch, but it's not everyone who'd be willing to turn a blind eye to us crossing his property like that, even using his barn sometimes."</p><p>That was Kinch, always the voice of reason.  A voice often appreciated, but sometimes not, especially when he was putting a crimp in a plan Carter thought was just superhumongously great!</p><p>"Any'ow, Andrew, as clumsy as you are, likely 'ave you bleedin' to death before you got 'alfway through with w'atever project you 'ave in mind," Newkirk offered lazily.  "And don't think of asking me to 'elp; not likely to be risking my magic fingers for such nonsense."</p><p>Now Carter was getting a little put out.  It HAD been a neat idea, and not his only one, either!  But one by one, they'd been shot down, laughed at.  Boy, sometimes he just didn't get the respect he was due, you know??!</p><p>Studiously ignoring that little pout now sitting on Andrew's face, Newkirk changed the subject.  He didn't like Andrew being unhappy or upset, but he could just see him walking into trouble of one sort or another because of his current obsession.  Well, usually he could find something to distract the man.  Now he gave a quick thought, and jumped in with a casual nonchalance that fooled no one, especially not Carter.</p><p>"Anyone seen that new monocle of Klink's?  Bloody thing's two sizes too big, at least.  Makes 'im look like a flippin' owl, at least on one side.  Bet you know a lot about owls, Andrew; they got many in that Bullfrog place of yours?  Your grandfather 'ave a pet one, maybe?"</p><p>Carter sulked, not taking the bait.  In fact, he scowled, puckered up his face and stomped over to the bunk that concealed the tunnel entrance, banged on it to release the catch.</p><p>"Going somewhere, Carter?" Hogan asked from the doorway to his private quarters.</p><p>"Uhh, well, yeah," Carter replied, thinking madly.  Saying he was going off to pout just didn't sound very professional.  If he was looking for respect, that probably wasn't the best way to get it.  "Wanted to check my inventory of stuff for bombs, maybe the rest of my supplies, before Kinch makes that new call to London."  </p><p>Well, yeah, he HAD intended to do that over the next day or so, but it was hardly urgent that it be done immediately.  Still, if he stayed, he was going to lose his temper, which didn't happen too often, being more good-natured than most, but it was a shock to everyone when it did happen, and upset the atmosphere in the barracks more than a little.</p><p>"Alright, but be back up here in an hour.  I want you all in one place before I head over to schmooze our fearless Kommandant."</p><p>The others watched in silence as the bunk moved back into place.</p><p>"So, what was all that about?" Hogan asked.  Little tiffs did happen, but he knew it was best to stay on top of the interpersonal balance, so to speak, so he could take action if it got so far out of hand as to threaten the overall mission.</p><p>"Nothing so much, mon colonel," LeBeau answered, but with a puzzled frown.  "It is that Carter seems determined to take up wood-working as a hobby.  Carving, tailler - whittling, I believe it is called -  such things.  We have tried to offer alternatives to engage him, but . . ." he concluded with a Gallic shrug.</p><p>Hogan frowned, puzzled.  "Seems harmless enough, as long as he keeps the knives out of sight.  Why . . .?"</p><p>Then he chuckled, realizing.  "Yeah, we'd have him slicing his fingers to the bone, or putting a knife through his foot, most likely.  In fact, didn't he do that already?"</p><p>Kinch nodded, "yeah, playing mumblety-peg with the jokers from Barracks 7.  He wasn't too unhappy, though, since that's supposedly an automatic win, but he sure got chewed out by Wilson!"</p><p>Newkirk snorted, "never was that desperate to win a game, you know?  I mean, to stick a knife through a part of my own body?  Seems a bit extreme."</p><p>Carter was back within the hour, seemingly in a much better frame of mind, and not given to discussing his plans for woodworking.  Though he did give them, as a very deliberate punishment, a lengthy discourse on the types of owls he was familiar with, their looks, their habits, even including a striking performance of their various hunting and mating cries.  He only stopped when Newkirk, in sheer frustration, threw a boot at him, missing him by a fraction of an inch, and Schultz stormed in in a panic after that screech owl impersonation.  Well, it WAS kinda nerve-shattering given the enthusiasm with which Carter performed the feat.</p><p>If everyone else was chuckling when they tucked in at lights-out, Carter wasn't.  He was too busy figuring out how he could continue with his project without anyone getting wise and trying to stop him.  He just KNEW he could do a good job of it, and really, all he wanted was a little respect.  Was that really too much to ask?</p><p>And while Kinch might be right about the cherry wood, for another part of his plans he'd already seen the perfect piece of wood!  While they were rescuing Tiger and the other ladies, there on that riverbank, there'd been that big tree where part of the root system had been exposed by the rush of water.  It had the most perfect grain for what he had in mind!  If he could get back there, cut a piece free, it should give him a real good start!</p><p> </p><p>"Alright, Carter.  What are you up to?  Every time I look for you, you're off somewhere, but no one seems to know where you are or what you're doing.  If there's a problem . . ." Hogan offered with a concerned look.  The others looked worried too; Carter could get into trouble even with them looking out for him.  On his own?  Whoa, boy!</p><p>Carter flushed, "well, you see, I kinda . . . " his voice trailing off. </p><p>Licking his suddenly-dry lips, he hurried on, "wait here.  I'll show you," and he was down the tunnel entrance in a flash, returning with a woven straw basket with a cover.  Glancing around, swallowing deeply, he opened the cover and stared down.  {"If they laugh at me, I'm gonna be real upset.  They might, MIGHT think this is just silly stuff.  Maybe . . .  But maybe they won't.  I think these are pretty darned good!"}</p><p>He laid his prizes out on the table with a look of determined satisfaction.  </p><p>The others looked at the collection, then at each other.  It was Newkirk who tentatively asked, "and those might be w'at, Andrew?"</p><p>Now that look of satisfaction turned to one of great pride.  "I TOLD you I wanted to do some woodworking.  But since you just made fun of the idea, I didn't say anything, I just went ahead and did it on my own."</p><p>Schultz had come in behind them, was watching from the doorway, and his eyes widened.  Such skill!  Such craftsmanship!  He would have been proud to offer any of those things as having come from his own toy factory.  He didn't hesitate, hurried to offer his approval, his support.</p><p>"The boomerang, it is wonderful, Carter!   Is it a returning one or one that does not return?" he asked eagerly, heads jerking around as they'd been so engrossed in the items that they'd not heard the old sergeant come in.  "And the domino tiles, the symbols on the back - what do they represent?  And the others, the little animals, there is a purpose other than display?"</p><p>Carter's eyes lit up.  Finally, someone who understood!  Someone who would respect what he had accomplished!</p><p>He quickly expounded on the treasures laid out on the table.  </p><p>"Yeah, it's a returning one, and boy, that's not easy, you know!  Of course, the other kind isn't so easy either, not if you're making a heavy one to really hunt with, but the heavy kind don't return so good.  See, to get it to come back, you have to thin it out, shape the wings . . ."</p><p>And he ran his fingers along the swirls and curves, expounding on the aerodynamics involved.  The others looked at each other in astonishment.  Somehow that all sounded a bit above what they'd come to expect from Carter.  And the piece really was beautiful - smooth and polished, the grain shifting and flowing with remarkable grace.  It would have drawn compliments as a piece of art, even if it had no underlying purpose.  He'd been right; that exposed section of tree root had been perfect for the project.</p><p>"And on the tiles - those are symbols for good luck.  They come from all different places, all different cultures, things I've learned from lots of different guys who come through here, though some from back home.  Seems that's something most everyone believes in, good luck, and it seemed like it would be kinda neat using them like that, all together, you know, on the domino tiles.  Well, with that nice straight grain of the wood, it lets you do stuff you wouldn't get those clear lines using something else."</p><p>Yeah, finding out Gissa Meyerson was more than happy to trade a few lengths of cherry wood for a few of his herb recipes he'd gotten from his grandfather, along with small bags of each dried herb that he'd collected, that had been real lucky.  And with a straight and even grain like those lengths had, splitting them, cutting them into just the right size for domino tiles, doing the carving, the painting, that had been fun.</p><p>"And the animals, well, they're for a game I used to play when I was a kid.  My cousin called it 'Buffalo Hunt'.  See, here's how it went . . ." and he cheerfully recounted a game far more complex than you'd have imagined, pointing out the carved pieces - three buffalo, a rabbit, a horse, a snake, two lizards, a hawk, and a few others.</p><p>Newkirk looked again, then eyed Carter suspiciously.  "Let me see your 'ands, Andrew," and the innocent-eyed Carter held them out, fingers spayed wide, first palms up, then palms down.  Not a nick or a gouge, all clean as a whistle.</p><p>"Andrew . . . " the Englishman started, then stopped, looking again at the skillful work laid out on the table.</p><p>Schultz had moved forward, carefully fingering the various pieces.  </p><p>"Carter, when the war is over, when I have my toy factory again, perhaps we can discuss such things.  My own woodsmith would have been proud to claim such work.  But for now, I think you with sharp knives is perhaps a bad idea.  I am very sure the Kommandant would not understand, and mein Gott!, Major Hochstetter???   At least, if you would do such things, perhaps there is a place to hide them away?  A place where no one will find them, your tools at least?"</p><p>None of them were comfortable with that quick knowing glance the old soldier gave toward that moveable bunk, or the twinkle in those aging eyes.</p><p>"Uh, yeah, Schultz.  That's a good idea, I'll do that, thanks," Carter mumbled, flushing a little.</p><p>Then he brightened, "hey, did you mean that, about after the war?  I mean, it'd be really neat to have the buffalo game something lots of people could get to learn about and play!"</p><p>Newkirk rapped him on the side of the head with the heel of his hand, it looking like a much harder blow than it actually was.  </p><p>"Now, why wouldn't 'e mean it, Andrew?  A right good job you did of it!  Bloody good work, all of it!"</p><p>Praise from Peter Newkirk, now that was something Andrew would truly treasure!</p><p>And the others joined in, amazed at the skill, the beauty of what lay before them.</p><p>Andrew Carter flushed with pleasure.  "Gee, guys, thanks!  See I told you I wouldn't cut myself or anything!  I'm not nearly as clumsy as you . . .  OUCHHHH!!!!!!  Dang, we need to do something about that splinter, guys.  Someone could really get hurt!" as he sucked the blood away that was dripping from the side of his hand.</p><p>Newkirk rolled his eyes, eyeing a long splinter sticking up from the surface of the table, one that he could have sworn hadn't been there until Carter had reached across that spot.  "'Ere, Andrew, let me take a look at that!  You are the clumsiest git sometimes!"</p><p>He looked back at the table, then gave a warm rueful smile, shaking his head.  "Well, sometimes anyway!"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Prompt Used:<br/>You can't get the wood, you know.</p><p>Reference: Story 'Women!'</p></blockquote></div></div>
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